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Topic: INDEFATIGABLE (02/11/16)
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TITLE: Man-Hungry... | Previous Challenge Entry
By Noel Mitaxa
02/18/16 -
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Boys.
Sandy knew this topic needed to be settled once and for all. “What do you think is most important about a boy, Wanda?” she asked. “Is it his family, his brains, his sport or his appearance?”
At fourteen, Wanda knew she was perilously close to remaining on the shelf - doomed to eternal spinsterhood – a fate which tinged her instantaneous reply. “Appearance – and the sooner the better!” she declared.
She was so boy-crazy that when an optician recommended corrective glasses, she wanted boy-focal lenses.
Through high school and college, her despair burst through every conversation she had with any new – and otherwise – likely lad, with talk of marriage, how many children she wanted, and the kind of house she dreamed of living in.
Boys started keeping their distance, but they never knew when or where she might suddenly appear: at sports training sessions, at football games, wangling her way into the pits at car races. Always wearing the most alluring outfits she could squeeze herself into, and fluttering her eyelashes in the most glamorous way she could. And ever ready with the latest quote from a movie star, pop singer or top jock. Their consensus was clear: well-named because she made them ‘Wanda’ what she would try next…
After an incredibly short journey, Wanda came to her wits’ end.
She realised that all doors were closed to the rugged outdoor-types, though she could not understand why. Her next step was to adopt a studious persona, which led her to spending hours in the college library, feverishly researching ways to insert the most obscure pieces of jargon into her conversations; perchance to attract the attention even of nerds, geeks and goofballs. But as these guys raced past her introductory ploys, delving in to such deep conversations, she was quickly left gasping for air―intellectually speaking. Their more literary colleagues began referring to her as a human cliché―to be avoided like the plague.
When she tried plastic surgery in an attempt to improve her allure, some of the guys smirked that when she died, she would probably will her body to Tupperware.
Many desperate years of heartache passed, until at nineteen she knew she was on the shelf.
Her final act was to post her photograph and her profile to a Lonely Hearts’ Club website, whereupon she became absorbed in whatever response might come.
Wanda did not have to wait for long for her computer to emit a soft beep. Surely it was about to flood her with prospects. Eagerly, she pounced on the send/receive icon, her hearty racing at warp speed.
Then, clicking open her inbox and highlighting the Lonely Hearts’ Club reply, she read..
“Thank you Wanda, but we aren’t that lonely!”
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God bless!
the ending!
Great job, Noel!